I really wanted chocolate.
Maybe even some jolly ranchers.
Candy.
I wanted some fucking candy.

But all I had were apples.
Healthy, crunchy apples.

As I stood in my kitchen,
taking unenthusiastic bites
chewing with resignation
I realized

What a poor substitute.

Like going home drunk and alone.
But still horny.
Having to fight through inebriation
for an unsatisfactory climax.

My apple was a sloppy masturbatory attempt at satiation.

*sigh*

Happy New Year.